


Dorito Man: an OsaKomo One Shot

by QueerIsle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, komori being a chaotic clingy pain in the ass, osamu loving it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerIsle/pseuds/QueerIsle
Summary: This was originally a threadfic posted on my twitter account (@QueerIsle). Do not follow any of my accounts if you are a minor.Just some OsaKomo fluffy chaos. I love them so much <3
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Miya Osamu
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Dorito Man: an OsaKomo One Shot

Here’s something not many people know about Osamu: he’s touchy. Literally. By quite the margin, physical touch is his top love language. The warm feeling of another’s body against him makes Osamu feel grounded, present. He feels himself relax under their touch, even if it’s a brief pat on the back.

Here’s an embarrassing thing Osamu never wants to admit: he enjoys his brotherly fights with Atsumu because they’re moments where he can gain (approximately) a hug from his brother, though his arms are around his neck rather than his waist and the strength of his grip can hardly be called tender.

He’s got pride so he’s not going to ask for a hug when he’s upset. And Atsumu, being the insufferable asshole he is, always ends up saying just the right thing for Osamu to have an excuse to get his arms around him.

Osamu’s having a bad day? “Samu, quit yer fuckin’ poutin’. I don’t wanna hafta look at yer ugly ass mug, so just lock yerself in yer room and cry about it fer all I care.” Atsumu’s in a chokehold.

Osamu is celebrating? “Oh, calm down. Ya just got lucky, Samu. Ain’t no way pathetic trash like you actually accomplished that. If it were me, I-“ Atsumu’s in a waist lock.

It’s just comforting. He doesn’t know how to explain it, he just wants to feel someone’s arms around him when he’s discontented and when he's elated. He’s gotten by with sneaky fights with his brother and the occasional pat on the back from his teammates. That was enough, then.

Then.

Now? Now, he’s wrapped up in two blankets with a shivering Komori clinging to him, arms wrapped around him and clutching the back of his t-shirt, legs wrapped around his own.

Osamu chuckles. “You know, it’s probably not helping being dressed in only a t-shirt and underwear. You should put on some sweatpants or some- _Ahhh, that’s cold_!“

Komori pressed his frozen toes against Osamu’s warm legs. “Duh! That’s why I’m doing this! No, don’t move away!”

Osamu attempts to pry himself away from the human icicle, but Komori’s just as strong as he is. The two struggle against each other for a moment before Komori pushes them over, and settles himself on top of Osamu, cuddling into his chest with a satisfied sigh.

You wanna know another embarrassing thing Osamu will never admit? He kept up with his weightlifting routine after high school for cuddling. Yeah. _That_ was his motivation. To be able to pick up his partner and hold them close. To wrap them up in strong arms and make them feel safe, make them never want to leave. God, that’s so pathetic. But it’s true. And, well, it paid off.

“Mm. Tiddies,” Komori mumbles dreamily, tightening him grip on Osamu and nuzzling his chest.

The added pressure makes Osamu’s heart squeeze.

Komori has no idea how much Osamu needs this. Hell, Osamu didn’t know he needed this until it happened. Until that night Osamu was invited to their team’s after party and he and Komori hit it off. Until they went to his place to sober up and they somehow ended up in Osamu’s bed. Until Osamu woke up the next morning wrapped in heavenly warmth.

God, he loves this man. It’s almost painful.

Osamu places a hand on Komori’s lower back while the other lightly traces his spine. The volleyball players hums in response, a smile spreading across his cheeks. 

The silence is calm, comfortable. Every muscle in Osamu’s body is relaxed, he’s melted under the warmth of his clingy boyfriend. If it were up to him, he’d stay this way all day. But, unfortunately, Osamu is not the omniscient entity controlling this universe, and he cannot magically eradicate his nor his boyfriend’s responsibilities.

He sighs, deeply, before the words he’s dreading to say fall from his lips. “Komo, baby, we’ve got ta get up.”

“Mmf!” Komori grunts, again tightening his grip.

“Baby, ya’ve got practice. I need ta open up the restaurant,” Osamu explains, moving his arms from his boyfriend’s back to reach for the fists tightening around his shirt.

“No!” Komori buries his face in Osamu’s chest.

Osamu’s heart squeezes again. _Ouch_. “Baby, it _literally_ pains me ta do this, but we hafta.”

Osamu grabs Komori’s hands and flips them over. The sudden shift in gravity startles Komori, causing him to loosen his grip. Osamu takes the opportunity to remove his hands from his shirt and holds them in his own. Osamu stares down at the beautiful athlete underneath him. He stares into those beautiful hazel eyes, which are now wide and round, looking pitiful.

“Those puppy dog eyes ain’t gonna work on me, today, Komo,” he says, placing light kisses on Komori’s knuckles.

A scowl spreads across Komori’s face before he rips his hands away from Osamu’s lips. “You cannot deny me, Dorito man!” he exclaims before wrapping his arms around Osamu’s neck and his legs around his waist. He nuzzles into Osamu’s neck.

Osamu rolls his eyes. “Would you stop calling me that?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

There’s a pause before Komori pulls away to look up at Osamu. He studies his face.

Osamu narrows his eyes. “What’s goin’ through that head of yers?”

A smile tugs at the corners of Komori’s lips. “Hmm... Dorito man... What flavor would you be?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, I only really know the red and blue,” Komori laughs. “I don’t think you’re a blue Dorito, so I guess you’re the red Dorito.”

Osamu stares down at his boyfriend, his eyebrows twisted up in confusion. “Komo... what the fuck?”

“I’m telling you, Osamu, you are not a cool ranch man. I’m so sorry, but these are the facts.”

“Komo...”

“I’ll give you a moment to emotionally process this information, I know it’s devastating,” he soothes, releasing his grip on the chef.

Komori wriggles himself from underneath Osamu and gets out of bed. “Fuck, why is it so cold? Do we not have a heater? Are we cavemen? Do I need to gather rocks and twigs to build a fire in our living room? Why must we live like this?”

Osamu watches his boyfriend grumble his tirade while searching through their drawers. The shorter man pulls on a pair of black sweatpants and begins pulling on his team jacket before continuing.

“This isn’t Survivor, Osamu, I’m not trying to develop survival skills in my own home. It’s the 21st century! We’ve been blessed with these luxuries, we must take advantage of them!”

Komori walks back over to Osamu and tenderly places a hand on his cheek. He stares down at Osamu for a moment, taking in his dark features and amused expression.

Ugh, he’s so pretty.

Komori leans down to place a kiss on his forehead before quickly pulling away with a stern look on his face. “You’re listening to me, right? I’m serious, it’s way too damn cold in this apartment!”

Osamu chuckles.

Komori does this a lot. His actions betray his tone, his words. He could be ripping Osamu a new one while clinging to his side and running his fingers through his hair. He could be yelling about how angry he is at Osamu while sitting on his lap and nuzzling his neck. It’s honestly really amusing.

“I keep the heater off so you’ll cuddle me closer.”

Komori pauses, searching Osamu’s eyes. “Are you serious?”

A blush creeps across his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“You fucking schemer! I’ve been suffering, nearly getting frostbite because of your clingy ass?”

“Me? _I’m_ clingy?”

“Hell fucking yes! Is this entire situation not proof enough?”

“ _You’re_ the clingy one! You’re always wrapping yourself around me!”

“Because I’m _cold_ , thanks to _somebody_!”

“Oh, shut up! You cling to me in the summer, too.”

“I do not!”

“Need I remind you about the pool party at Aran’s last year? I distinctly remember you-“

“AHHH, NO!” Komori throws both his hands up to cover Osamu’s mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Plus I was drunk. _Anyway_ , you’re the clingy one and you’re also the lazy one. Get out of bed already, will ya?”

He turns away from the raven-haired man to continue his morning routine.

Osamu blinks at his retreating figure. Wait.

“Hold on a minute, I’m the one who said we needed to get up in the first place!” he shouts.

“And who’s the one that’s actually up, right now?” Komori retorts.

Osamu huffs before getting up to start his morning routine.

What a pain in the ass. What a clingy, snarky, contradictory, stubborn, adorable, loving pain in the ass.

After dressing, he joins Komori in the bathroom.

“Ah! Finawy, yer uhb!” Komori says around his toothbrush.

He leans of the sink to spit. “Ya lazy bum, I thought I was going to have to drag you out of there!”

Osamu just shakes his head. He lifts his hands to hold Komori’s face and swipes the remaining toothpaste on his lips away.

“What would I do without ya?” Osamu mumbles, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

“You’d die, that’s what! You’d wither away to nothing, alone and starving. You’d be all wrinkled and wilting away, begging for the sweet release of dea-“

“Can you not ruin a sweet moment for once in your life?” Osamu interrupts before leaning forward to press his lips against Komori’s.

A hand slaps against Osamu’s mouth, halting his path.

“Gross, brush your teeth first, you bum!”

“So the answer is no, then.”


End file.
